Mark of the Forgotten
by Drakefire
Summary: Khorvaire. A continent torn apart by a civil war lasting 100 years. After a portal of unknown origin is discovered, as small team leaves to find out what lies beyond. What they find is a galaxy torn apart by a war of it's own. Can the nation's of Khorvaire unite to do battle once again? Can balance be returned to the force? Or is everything doomed to the tempest's roar?


This is going to be a rewrite of an older fanfic called Dragonmark of the Force. A story that I stopped due to poor writing and a lack of reception. However, due to some recent development's, I've decided to reboot the story, due to the fact it has some interesting potential. However, be warned, updates will be few and far between. I'm working on another story as of this moment, and so far, it has proven to be one that many people enjoy. This story, as stated, should be a far better and polished version of the original, and I've made several tweaks to many of the original character's this story will have, alongside several new character (they won't be introduced until far later however).

Furthermore, I do not own the Star Wars Franchise, nor do I own Dungeons and Dragons: Eberron.

With that out of the way, let us begin Mark of the Forgotten.

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Corporal let out a sigh. Well, as much as a creature without lungs could sigh, anyway. Why exactly did he agree to this crazy mission again? Besides him being outvoted three to one. Right, the pay. The ridiculous pay. And compensation! For such a straightforward bodyguard mission, this was bringing in a lot of gold. Not only that, if any of his men were to actually die, their employer would pay the cost of resurrection, so it wouldn't come out of what they were payed for. But that left their employer. Baron Kwanti d'Orien. Leader of the Dragonmarked house Orien.

House Orien was known for a few things, mostly the lightning rail network that spanned the continent before the Last War. Their Dragonmark, one of the many strange, magical rune that can be found on the skin of mortal creatures, was known as the Mark of Passage. For more than two thousand years, the house has been a major player in both commerce and trade, across all Khorvaire.

Corporal himself had taken on a few missions from the house, and alongside his band of mercenaries, a group that simply called itself Coporal's Warforged, protected a few caravans that were forced to go through less than savory territory. But a few successful caravan escorts should not warrant the current mission they had been hired for. Especially given the entire contract. He was given free rein in combat situations, alongside being able to override the two they were guarding if they were going to do something stupid. Which left the part he hated the most. This was part of the rumored 'First Step Initiative', House Orien's portal experiments. That meant that he and his men were walking into the unknown.

The two he was guarding being two heirs to the house, both close to eighteen years of age. And despite them being heirs of the same age, the two couldn't look any more different. The male, had shoulder length dark brown hair, along with sea green eyes. He was covered in light brown leather armor, covering most of his body, with an enchanted longsword hanging of his waist. Pale skin showed that he was more one for study than action. Thelle d'Orien was a slim figure, using his blade in a single hand, focusing on agility and nimbleness, unlike his counterpart. The girl was massive, build out of muscle, using a massive blade, runes of fire etched along the greatsword. Black hair and eyes like chocolate, her body was very tanned, a sign of her active nature. Like the other, her armor was leather, but dyed to a jet black. Sasha d'Orien was imposing figure in her own right. They both showed off their Dragonmarks with pride, Sasha's own crimson mark written on her cheek, while Thelle's was written on his right hand, the leather glove he wore having a hole in it, putting the brand on display.

That left his squad. While calling them a band may have been an overvaluation of their numbers, he didn't really care. The group had proven it's strips time and time again. Not surprising, since three of them were veterans of the Last War. He actually took his name from the rank he abtained during that time. Corporal was a strategic mind. Not a mastermind, but he remained a very good strategist. Something that showed time and time again. But just because he was the planner, didn't mean he didn't fight. Far from it. To the war veteran, the best leaders are ones that lead from the front, alongside those they ordered. While the heavy scale armor he wore into battle didn't look special, but the enchanted armor had not failed him yet. Combined with his sword and shield also having a fairly normal appearance, he typically fought on the front line, alongside Bulwark.

Bulwark was an interesting case. Unlike the other veterans on the team, Corporal had never meet Bulwark during his time of service. It was a good thing, too. The Warforged had more than a few screws loose in his head. After the war, the mighty Warforged was a rumored member of the Blades, a militaristic cult comprised solely of Warforged that formed in the Mournland after the war. Whether this was true or not, Bulwark had never said, but even so, he was must have ally anyway. Covered head to toe in royal blue adamantine armor combined with defensive enchantments, the warforged was a walking weapon. Spikes, sharp and black like a nightmare, came out outside of the arm guards and legs, with his back lined with the oversized serrated knives. And that was without his weapons. Bulward had two flails, one nothing more than an axe at the end of a long chain, the other a simple spiked ball. This excluded his massive shield, like his armor, a royal blue, made as the same metal as his armor. This gave him two fighting styles. One where his flails broke, cut, or rended anything that dared to the get close. The other, one where he could shrug off hits meant to bring down a Titanforged.

Shot was the third and final veteran on the squad. A lone wolf in every sense of the term, the Warforged served as a scout during the Last War. In addition to his silent nature, he was a crack shot with his crossbow, easily hitting targets at ranges of three hundred feet or greater. Combined with enchanted armor that acted much like that of chameleon, and a build in grappling hook, he was hard to spot, and even if you succeeded, you would be dead long before you could report it to anyone. However, he was mostly silent, even when not on the job. Instead, the voluntary mute communicated through hand signs, and when that didn't work, writing. This could lead to sometimes humorous, though annoyingly ineffective, circumstances. Which lead to the purchase of a certain augmentation that allowed him to communicate telepathically. The device had limited range, but it allowed him to give warnings and report without opening his mouth. It only worked with warforged, something that normally wasn't an issue, but now it was. A bridge that could hopefully be crossed with the help of the fourth and final member.

Tinker was among the last warforged ever produced, being less than a few years old. Because of this, he never experienced the Last War, due to the conflict finally dying down after the Mourning. The destruction of an entire nation from unknown causes is what brought an end to the century long conflict. After that, the war simply died away, despite the official peace treaty being signed two years later. The treaty set many terms, including limiting the rampant growth of the Dragonmarked houses, most of which made a massive amount of money during wartime, with the exception of House Orien. But part of the treaty gave Warforged the same rights as all other sentient beings, and outlawed the production of more. Of course, it was not well understood exactly how Warforged worked, even by the ones who made them, the Dragonmarked House Cannith. Of course, the lead some of the later Warforged, that had the freedom of choice, to become naturally curious about themselves, becoming smith's, tinkerers and artifacters. Tinker was one of these. A borderlines genus, though far less strategic than his veteran counterpart, he made explosives, elixirs, healing devices, and carried the parts to make small machines on the fly.

But even with all that, the commander to feel the nervousness in the air. Excluding Bulwark, of course, who was ready to jump into any situation. Even if that situation was an unknown. The mission had the potential to be an easy one. But at the very same time, it also had the chance of being a nightmare. Of course, the Baron wouldn't send some of his own on something he knew was a suicide mission. That spoke at the least a little bit about how sure the man was, which wasn't much. Sure enough that nobody was going to die to sent two marked heirs, but not sure enough to put it in the contract.

"You understand that failure isn't an option. You must find exactly is on the other side of that portal," the Baron stated grimly. This was the first time this particular portal had been used. Until last month, nobody knew about. The portal itself was found within a ruin not to far away from the massive City of Towers, Sharn. While the ruin itself had been picked dry in ages past, it's closeness to civilization made it an ideal hideout for bandits, forcing the occasional group to be hired to clear out, or at the very least check on, the ruined fort. That's how the portal was found. Despite it clearly being picked clean of anything of value, magical or otherwise, somehow, someway, a portal had formed. Normally, something like this would be overlooked as merely a rare occurrence, if it wasn't for one thing. Portals require a source of power. Something that this portal seemingly didn't need. That was the most interesting part. The idea of a portal that didn't need power was something curious, but also something that was good for business. Potentially, it had to do something with what was on the other end. It was risky, of course, which is why he approved the operation with a great deal of reluctance. He chose these two for quite a good reason, however. While the two were young, they had a lot of potential. Thelle's family was an old part of the Orien house, there since the beginning. He was well studied, and knew how to handle himself on the field of battle. Sasha's line was a newer addition to the house. Her mother's mark had appeared during the Last War, seemingly from nowhere. It was a rare occurrence, but considering how she took to wartime smuggling, the Mark of Passage had chosen the new bloodline well. That being said, the girl was more than ready to prove herself.

"Yes sir!" the pair says at once, before glaring at each other. Of course, there was that. While Thelle never seemed one to care much about whether someone in the house had a Dragonmark or not, Sasha was headstrong and hotheaded, something that on the calmer boy's nevers. This led to a degree of tension, despite them both being duelists that combined the art of the sword with the magical arts. Actually that made it worse, in reality. Despite their similar training, their combat styles were much different, with Sasha using her massive blade to overpower her enemies, while Thelle focused on speed and precise strikes.

Meanwhile, Corporal was checking over his men as well. Warforged didn't need to eat or drink, so the space that would normally be used for such things was used for far more important objects.

"Tinker, you have everything you need?" the commander asked. The young Warforged nodded.

"Potions, Spiderwork Bombs, Dragon Shards, and components to made everything else on the fly. I'm ready," Tinker declared. Of course, the Artifacter didn't list his weapon's, a simple enchanted mace, alongside a wand and lightning enchanted handheld crossbow. To be fair, he did think of what he made as weapons, rather than anything else. It had taken a degree of force for him to even purchase what he had. Corporeal turned around to face the other two.

"What about you two?" he asked. Shot gave his commander a nod along with a thumbs up, while Bulward slammed his fists together in a loud crash. The last two seemed ready as well.

"Good. Once more into the breach, then."

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And that's a wrap. While this chapter doesn't go as far as the first one of the original, I found this was a good place to end it. Coperal's Warforged pretty much remains the same, save Bulwark actually being borderline psycho and Shot being a voluntary mute. Not only have Sasha and Thelle gotten name changes, the two, who were twins in the first telling, are no longer related. At all. Take from that what you will.

Well I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to see you next time.


End file.
